by Douglas Cobb
We had moved back into the house. It was still a bit smoky, but most of it had cleared off, and air fresheners helped to mask what smell was left. While her room was being renovated, she would sleep in the guest bedroom on the other side of the house. Tonight would be our first night home, and I was looking forward to things getting back to normal (or a reasonable facsimile of 'normal').
It was just five days away from yet another holiday, New Year's Day! Probably the part of New Year's Day I liked the most was watching the cool parades that were on T.V. I liked watching parades of all sorts, really, like the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, the ones that were on Christmas Day, and the St. Patrick's Day parades. The one thing I didn't like about New Year's Day was that it meant Celeste's school would begin again the following day.
"Party all the time, party all the time, party all the time!" Celeste was singing from the bathroom, where she was taking a shower. She liked to sing along with the music on her iPod, which was stored with hundreds of her favorite songs, including "Goody 2 Shoes," by Adam Ant, and songs by the Beatles, Pink, and Panic At the Disco.
"Celeste, turn that music down!" Clare shouted to her daughter from her's and Quentin's bedroom. A couple of seconds later, the music was turned down, but Celeste's voice wasn't. She sang with as much enthusiasm as before her Mom's request.
When she got dressed after her shower, Clare said to her: "My, you seem to be in a happy mood! What brought that on?"
"Oh, my friend Denise called a little bit ago and asked if I would like to go see a matinee of the latest Adam Sandler movie--can I go, Mom?"
"What's it rated? As long as it's PG-13 or lower, I don't see why you can't--I can give you a ride there, and pick you up afterward."
"Oh, yes, Mom--it's got some bad language in it, but it's strictly PG-13. Her mother said she can take us, though, if that's okay with you. She'll be here in fifteen minutes."
"Fifteen minutes?" Clare said. "I guess it has to be okay, then, doesn't it? Unless I changed my mind and told you that you can't go because you appear to have had this all arranged ahead of time, before you even decided to ask me for permission."
"No, Mom, it wasn't like that--"
"Yes, it was, and you know it--but, you can go--just ask me before you have already made the arrangements in the future, okay?"
"You're the best, Mom!" Celeste said. "Oh, can I have ten dollars to get my ticket, and maybe some more money for snacks while I'm there?"
"What about your Christmas money? You don't want to use that?" Clare said, but she reached into her purse and gave Celeste two tens, anyway.
"Thanks, Mom!" Celeste said again, and eagerly waited for her friend to arrive.
"You're taking me, too, right?" I asked her.
"What? You know I can't take you into a movie theater, Lily!"
"Why not?" I asked her.
"I'd take you if I could, but they don't allow 'dogs' into movie theaters!"
"It's discrimination, I tell you!" I roared, enraged at the injustice of it all. "It'll probably suck, anyway--Adam Sandler's movies have never been very good since The Waterboy came out. It's just as well."
"Lily! He has too made some good movies since then!" Celeste argued.
"Okay--name one!" I said.
"Well, there's--um--and then there's...I can't think of one at the moment, but he's made plenty of good ones since then--you're just mad because you can't go, and you're trying to ruin it for me!" Celeste said.
"Now, I wouldn't be that petty...."
"I don't know about that!" Celeste said. "I need to get ready, so if you'll excuse me, I'm going back into the bathroom for a few minutes."
"And I thought I was your best-est friend..."
"You are, Lily, but I have other friends, too!" Celeste said. Of course, she did; I haven't been writing about them, because they haven't been a part of what's been happening with PAWS. But, when Denise came to the door, that changed. The distinct odor of fox was in the air, specifically, red Egyptian fox. Somehow or the other, Celeste's friend had come in contact with Omar. I jumped up and down trying to get Celeste's attention.
"Excuse, me for a sec, Denise," Celeste said. "Lily gets excited when people come to the door, and sometimes has accidents. I'll take her to the backyard--hold on--I'll be right back and we can go."
"What's got into you, Lily?" Celeste asked me when we were not within listening range.
"I don't know how to tell you this, Celeste, but Denise has had contact with Omar, and I'd say it was fairly recently, like with the last two hours!" I replied.
"You're just saying that because you don't want me to go to the movies without you!" Celeste said. "Honestly, Lily, you're still my 'best-est' friend, and always will be, but you have to get over being so jealous!"
"I'm not being 'jealous,' Celeste--girl, puh-lease!" I protested. I really did smell the odor of fox on her! I'm not saying she knew about anything--she might have thought she was just setting out food for a stray dog--but, look at her sweater, and you can see red hairs on it! It's obvious that Omar, the Desert fox, is trying to get to you and me through your friend!"
"Hmm...." Celeste said. "I'll look, but if I don't see any red hairs, Lily, I swear I'll--"
"We need to get moving if we want to get there on time, Cel!" Denise call from the livingroom. "I don't want my Mom to get too impatient--come on!"
Celeste put me in the backyard, saying: "I'll be home before you know it, Lily-Bear. Sorry I have to rush off, but my ride awaits!"
That sure freed up my afternoon, though it left a bad taste in my mouth. Why is it that people always doubt me? I have infallible instincts. While people might jump to conclusions, I casually test every theory and hypothesis with my computer-like olfactory senses located in my beak and sinus cavities, and process all of the clues I gather with my unequaled brain, before I take the plunge. Two and two must always equal four!
What is Omar up to now, I pondered to myself; another plague? The crashing of all of the world's computers at once? Possibly starting another fire, to get further revenge on me, PAWS, and Celeste? The possibilities were limitless. I was hoping he'd just go back to Egypt and leave us alone--dealing with our home-grown SNURFLES was difficult enough!
****
"We just might get this done ahead o' schedule, if you knuckleheads keep workin' like you've been doin' since lunch!" Byrce Gunderson said.
"Yeah, we have the insulation stapled in place now, and have the drywall it," Horace said. "And Virgil has managed to stay splinter-free since this mornin', so we're movin' along pretty good."
"Yeah, man, movin' along," Virgil agreed. "Any of you all seen tracks around your houses in the snow, that looks kinda like dang ol' dang ol' coyote prints? If I sees one of them suckas in the daytime, I'm gonna blast the bejesus right outa him!"
"You're a regular Big Game hunter, ain't ya?" Horace said. Cain't say I've seen any; how about you, Byrce?"
"My daughter, Denise, says she's seen some reddish-furred dog, but I cain't say I've seen any coyote," Byrce said. "You sure you ain't really seen some dog's prints, Virgil? I've told Denise to be careful, though, because ya never know when a dog might have rabies or somethin'."
"That's right; you cain't ever be too careful," Horace said. "Like, just before Christmas, you remember, when everybody's skin started to look kinda blue. I think I heard somethin' on the boob tube, some news story, about that maybe it was some disease carried by dogs."
"Yeah," Virgil said, "but I heard it was some dang ol' virus that escape-ified from a government lab, and that Obama was behind it. First, he and the other Democrats are tryin' to take the guns outa our hands; then they're tryin' to make our hands blue, to identify us better or somethin', mark us with somethin' so's the aliens can find us easier when the dang ol' revolution finally happens!"
"Easy there, Virgil!" Bryce said. "I'm pretty sure that there ain't no 'alien revolution' bein' planned, though who can say about the rest of it? Where there's smoke, there's fire, so they
say!"
"Har, har!" Virgil laughed. "That's a good one! You come up with the funniest expressions, boss! We're buildin' this dang ol' room because someone burnt it down, and here you're makin' up sayin's about it like you're some kinda dang ol' dang ol' Wolf Blitzer dude!"
"It musta been some passin' Bird Flu sorta thing," Horace said. "Like a twenty-four-hour stomach-flu. Maybe the Blue Bird of Happiness decided to lay an egg on the town of Centralia!"
Virgil guffawed again. "The Blue Bird of Happiness! That's a dang ol' hoot, man! But, seriously--do ya think we really did get hit with the Bird Flu? I have been feelin' kinda peak'd lately, but I figured it was just somethin' I ate."
"Probably more like somethin' you drank!" Horace said.
That settled it, I thought. Those buffoons didn't realize it, but they'd just confirmed what I'd already suspected. I hadn't known that Bryce Gunderson was Denise's father, but I didn't need an abacus to add up the evidence that pointed to Omar's still being in Centralia. He apparently didn't want to leave when there was still unfinished business to take care of, loose ends to tie up. When Celeste heard me tell her what I'd just heard, she would have to believe me, because it came directly from Denise's father's mouth.
So, the Desert Fox liked to play games, huh? There was only one way I could make sure to put a stop to his activities and attempts on mine and Celeste's lives, and that was to outfox the fox, to set a trap for him. It would take a couple of clicks of a mouse, and the aid of the other three members of PAWS, and everything going just right. That's all.
Professor Rex might not approve of my tactics in this case, being a Rhode Island Red, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I figured, as you might have surmised, that the best bait for catching a fox would be chickens. Though I'd been behind trucks carrying loads of chickens, I still hadn't realized just how many chickens could fit inside the cages in the beds of those trucks until that afternoon. That's when the fenced-in backyard of Fuzzy Wally MacGee became the temporary home to an entire truckload of chickens. Fortunately, the snow had melted, and the temperature was unseasonably warm. What fox could possibly resist so many chickens in one place?
****
"Lily, why do you have feathers all over yourself?" Celeste asked me.
"Feathers? What feathers are you talking about?” I answered evasively. Then to change the subject, I asked Celeste: "Did you see any red hairs on Denise's sweater?"
"I have to admit, Lily, that Denise did have some red hairs on her sweater," she said. "And, when I asked her about them, she did mention that she'd been putting out some food for a stray dog with reddish fur."
"And I listened to a conversation the carpenters were having about this very subject," I said to her. "Mr. Gunderson, the foreman and Denise's father, was telling the other workers that his daughter had been feeding a stray dog with red hair. He seemed worried that the dog might be carrying some disease, like the Blue Scarab Beetle Plague. Apparently, there's a rumor that dogs were responsible for unleashing the plague. I came up with a plan to trap Omar, but I'm going to need your help."
I told her about what I'd been busy doing ever since she'd left to see the movie (which she liked, but which she also said wasn't the best Sandler movie she'd seen in her life). Fuzzy Wally MacGee's "owners," were at a real estate convention in Las Vegas, and they'd asked Celeste to feed him and take care of him for a week.
"It must be a mess over there!" Celeste said.
"That's a mild understatement. But now, we have to go to the basement and get a few supplies, and round up the rest of PAWS. We have an appointment with Destiny!"
"I'm afraid it'll have to wait until after we eat supper, Lily. Mom told me when I came in it was almost done."
I argued that time was of the essence, but my paws were tied--I didn't want to make Clare angry or get Celeste into trouble, so we didn't leave until we both ate. I was hoping that Omar would hold off making a move for a while, as he preferred to operate in the dark. If he was anywhere near, though, the smell must be driving him crazy.
Celeste grabbed up the leashes she used to walk us "dogs" and we flew first to Prince Alphonse Saed's house to get him, and then to Lucy Marmoset Higgins' house. It was getting pretty dark by the time we arrived at Fuzzy Wally MacGee's, and we each went to a different part of the fence to serve as sentries. Each of us was armed with a blowgun, and tranquilizer darts, courtesy of Clare, though she didn't know we'd raided her cabinets again.
Driven mad with hunger, the salivating Desert Fox hopped the fence not more than an hour later. The chickens squawked and ran about, trying to evade him, and we kept blowing darts out, but missing our elusive quarry. Finally, one Lucy blew hit Omar's hindquarters, and he was finally brought down. Fuzzy Wally MacGee had somehow accidently sat on a dart.
"Nighty-night!" he groggily exclaimed, and passed out.
"Come on, Lucy, Fonz, and Celeste!" I said. "Help me put Omar in this crate, and then we need to gather up all of the chickens and put them into the cages scattered around the yard. The man who dropped them off will come back to pick them up tomorrow--I only rented them. I wrote in an e-mail to the Ok Foods Hatchery that I just wanted to use them to play a practical joke on someone. It shouldn't take us long to catch them; it didn't take very long to let release them from their cages, after all."
You can well imagine, it took substantially longer to gather the chickens up then it had to let them go. When a chicken doesn't want to be caught, it can display an impressive and surprising amount of speed and agility. Who would have thought that it would take us almost two hours to get them into their cages?
At least, Omar remained asleep. I, Fonz, Lucy, and Celeste left the sleeping Fuzzy Wally MacGee and the caged chickens in his yard and I flew my friends and the crated Omar to the shipping docks. With any luck, Omar wouldn't wake up until he was well on his way to Egypt, courtesy of myself and PAWS.
****
Mr. Gunderson, Virgil, and Horace did a good job, despite Virgil's and Horace's desire to do almost anything else but work. The four walls and ceiling were up by New Year's Eve, and the wiring was done. They had New Year's Eve and Day off. Most of the room was finished and looked great--it just needed to be painted and have new carpet installed, and a ceiling fan and light. Celeste could even sleep in her own new bed in her room now, with me. When the room would be painted, the painters would just move the bed to the middle of the room and work around it.
New Year's Eve didn't mean any parties this year. Celeste just wanted to stay awake as long as she could to welcome in the New Year, and Triple Q and Clare wanted to share the experience with her, watching T.V. and counting down and ringing in the New Year at midnight. Yeah, I know; kinda lame, right? But, it was time spent together, time worth sharing together. So, if you wanted to call me lame, I guess I'd have to admit to being "Guilty" to that particular crime.
"Lily, wake up!" Celeste said. "You keep dropping off to sleep!"
I grumbled and rolled over on my side, and tried to go to sleep again, but Celeste gently shook me awake.
"Don't you want to ring in the New Year with me?" she asked. "Don't be a party-pooper!"
"Blah!" I answered her. "Sure, I would like to welcome in the New Year, but I'm tired, and though I don't need any 'beauty sleep,' I could still use some shut-eye to replenish my batteries."
"You have all day tomorrow you can sleep, Lily! I have it on good authority that the Sandman works for SNURFLES, so make a stand and fight against the sand!"
"SNURFLES?" I asked. "Why didn't you say so?" I shook myself vigorously. "Okay, I vow I won't fall asleep until the ball drops, until the last curtain closes, until the Fat Lady sings, etc. etc.--maybe a quick flight will shake the cobwebs out of my mind."
I went to the back door and through the "doggie" door and took flight. Celeste came running to the door and called to me: "Be careful of the fireworks!"
"The what now?" I asked. Whatever she said was for the most part lost in the wind, and I didn't hear he
r. Oh, well--she was probably just wishing me a pleasant flight, or something.
I lost track of time, soaring along in the crisp cool air. I didn't want to be gone for long, but I was reveling in being one with the sky, and looking up at the constellations and trying to imagine what images the ancients saw when they looked at them.
Then, suddenly: "BOOM! BOOM!" I veered sharply to my left, and barely missed being slammed into by a rocket that exploded above me and showered me with hot sparkly fire.
Fireworks! That must have been what Celeste was trying to tell me, to be careful of fireworks! My eyes were still seeing after-images of the fireworks exploding so close to me. I thought I detected a bird-sized shape on the ground, but I couldn't be sure. I decided that New Year's Eve was not, after all, the best choice of nights to fly. I went to a lower altitude, and though I had some close calls, I made it home without further incidents happening.In the livingroom once again, I saw it was five minutes past midnight, and the New Year had begun. Celeste was asleep on the couch. I licked her hand, and she woke up and said: "Darn it! I missed ringing in the New Year! Sorry I fell asleep on you, Lily--but, I wish you a very Happy New Year!" She picked me up and sleepily took me into her bedroom, and we fell asleep as soon as our heads hit the bed.
****
I slept in, but only until nine. I didn't want to miss seeing the parades, my favorite one being the Rose Bowl Parade. Celeste was still snoozing, but woke up when she smelled the wonderful smell of her Mom frying bacon--yum!
"It's about time you woke up, Sleeping Beauty!" Clare said to Celeste.
"Yeah, um...I almost made it to midnight, but not quite. Lily licked my hand and woke me up, and we went to bed. It felt great sleeping in my own room! Hopefully, the men working on it will finish painting it tomorrow!" Celeste said.
"Want some scrambled eggs and O.J. too?" her Mom asked. Celeste said yes, and Clare poured her a glass of orange juice and spooned some scrambled eggs onto her plate. "I'm thinking that they probably will be able to finish painting your room, but don't hold me to it," she continued.
